The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

by Michael Anderle

  You okay? James thought.

  Operational levels are normal, the amulet responded, the thought flavored with a hint of irritation. Power level insufficient for advanced transformation.

  Yeah, yeah. Don’t need that yet.

  Find enemies. Kill enemies. Adapt and achieve primary directive.

  James nodded. “He’s fine, and annoying like normal. Don’t know if he’s immune to EMPs or if they’ve never worked on him.”

  “Who knows? Alien technology could be based on principles we can’t even begin to understand. Might as well be magic.” Shay frowned. “Question is what we’re going to do in the meantime. The Professor’s information wasn’t clear on how many Brotherhood might be here.”

  James clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. “Don’t really give a fuck. The magical poison shit was probably their best attack. Now we just need to worry about the wizard. He might have a few tricks, but if he was a badass, he wouldn’t hide behind a cult.”

  Shay shrugged. “Maybe he likes having people to boss around. For all we know, he called down the blizzard.”

  “The Professor’s information didn’t say anything about the guy having that kind of power.”

  “But he does have an artifact that can increase power. I don’t know. Just running the possibilities.” Shay frowned and crossed her arms. “I’m more worried about the Wendigo. We also don’t know if there is more than one. If we sit here the Brotherhood might come to us, or the Brotherhood might run now that they’re being attacked, and the creature itself might be dangerous.”

  Find new enemy, Whispy sent. Kill enemy. Adaptational potential high.

  James ignored the amulet. “It’s just ripping people open. Not a big deal. Brotherhood can’t run. They don’t have portal magic. The blizzard’s gonna keep them here, and if they did the anti-electronics spell, they’ve fucked up any cars they might have taken to escape. Maybe they will stroll into this shed and I can take the rest of them out, then I can go finish off the Wendigo. Claws? Big deal. I’ve already adapted to that sort of attack.”

  She snorted. “Like you were adapted to magical poison punches? You can’t be certain what you’ll face.”

  “Haven’t lost yet.” James shrugged. “Must be doing something right.”

  “Spoken like a true man. If you hadn’t had healing potions, you might have been killed.”

  “Not gonna apologize for being prepared.”

  Shay shook a finger at him. “You’re the one who said you weren’t even sure it was a Wendigo.”

  “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but it’s killing people like one. Doesn’t really matter if it’s a bounty hunter, a wizard, or a Wendigo. They’ll all die if you rip their heads off.”

  “There’s a certain simple elegance to that idea.” Shay sighed and slapped a fist against the metal wall, the sound echoing in the empty storage shed. “This is so fucking annoying. Could be worse, though. At least we didn’t have to go underwater.”

  A loud but distant noise cut through the howling wind. A roar.

  “Did you hear that?” James asked. “Sounded like our bounty-poaching monster to me.”

  Shay nodded. “Don’t know what a Wendigo sounds like, but probably a lot like that.”

  “He’s probably getting pretty cocky now. He’s carved through all those cultists and thinks he’s big shit. Good time to take him out.”

  Whispy Doom’s excitement leaked into James’ thoughts.

  “Maybe.” Shay frowned and shrugged.

  “That roar proves he’s still around,” James rumbled. “While we’re sitting in here, that thing’s stealing my bounties. I need to go out there and finish him off. At least then I know I can get rid of the rest of the Brotherhood myself.”

  “That’s not a good plan. I know you like to keep things simple, but reality isn’t always simple, James, and I don’t want to have to explain to Alison how I let her dad die because he was stubborn.” Shay shook her head. “I figured that in a worst-case scenario we could use the AR goggles, but they’re dead. Zero visibility means you’re waiting for that thing to gut you. Even if you think you've adapted to its attacks already, you can’t kill something you can’t see. It’s a fucking cannibal spirit native to this area. I’m sure it’s got white fur, or at least can blend in with the snow.”

  “Sure. If it is a Wendigo.”

  Shay stared at him. “The man it ripped up thought it was.”

  James grunted. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is if the sonofabitch thinks I’m easy prey. He’ll come to me, and I’ll take him out.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Unless he takes my head off in one blow he won’t win, and judging by the bodies we’ve found, that’s not his style.”

  “I can’t believe you’re basing your whole strategy on the fact that he only mutilated people instead of ripping their heads off.” Shay groaned and ran a hand down her face. “Seriously?”

  “Going off the available evidence.” James shrugged. “That seems like the smart play.”

  “Just saying, if it can’t gut you, it could bury you out there, or you could end up wandering away from the refinery.” Shay shook her head. “It’s a bad idea. You’re tough, James, but even you need to see what you’re fighting and where you are. We have no idea how long the storm will last.”

  James grunted. “We can’t just sit here while it steals and eats all the bounties.” He blinked. “Wait. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Other than, march into a blizzard to hunt a Wendigo?”

  “Nah, that’s still the plan. I just thought of a better way to do it.”

  Shay’s incredulity was obvious on her face. “And what is that?”

  “Remember the pay-per-view?”

  Shay stared at him, her mouth open. “Are you seriously trying to remind me of something that pissed me off while we’re in a storage shed in Alberta during a blizzard? If the Wendigo or the cult doesn’t take you out, maybe I will.”

  James shrugged. “The pay-per-view isn’t important; it’s how I took down the sniper that’s important. Remember?”

  Shay shot up, her eyes wide. “Yeah, the biological AR that altered your vision.” She smiled. “You clever sonofabitch. Thermal vision?

  He nodded.

  “We can’t be sure if the Wendigo would show up,” Shay replied, “but at least the cultists would. Are you sure you can get the amulet to give you thermal vision?”

  “Time to find out. Give me a sec.”

  Whispy, James thought. Alter my eyes so I can see body heat.

  Acknowledged. Minor decrease in defensive efficiency required.

  Don’t care. Just do it.

  Acknowledged. Find enemy. Kill enemy. Adapt and achieve primary directive.

  Pain exploded in James’ eyes and he fell to one knee, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

  “Shit,” Shay yelled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Fuck.”

  “James?” Shay rushed over to him.

  The pain ebbed, and James opened his eyes. A bright orange-red form stood in front of him, the background in shades of blue. A few seconds passed before James realized the colors overlaid the inside of the shed and Shay.

  “I’m fine,” he rumbled. He waved a hand in front of his face. He was running a few degrees hotter than Shay from what he could tell, likely from the amulet’s bonding. “It worked. I’ve got thermal vision.”

  Shay laughed. “Hope the bad guys don’t blind you with a fireball.” She clapped once. “Okay, Queen Pessimism is gone, and the Empress of Ass-kicking has returned. Let’s go find ourselves some cultists and a Wendigo.” She patted her sword. “If guns or your fists don’t work, we can use this before having to rely on your hate ray.”

  “Hate ray?” James frowned.

  “Yeah, you know, you get all super-pissy and change. Hate ray’s catchier than hate and anger beam or whatever.” Shay shrugged.

  “Fine. You can call it a hate ray.” James shook his head. “But I’m gon
na do this alone anyway.”

  “Is this about you being worried about losing control and hurting me?” Shay snorted. “It’s fine. You’ve transformed several times and kept your ass-kicking focused on the enemy. I’m not worried.”

  “That’s not it. I need to do this alone.”

  “What the fuck?” Shay glared at him. “You expect me to sit here while you wander into a blizzard to take on the rest of a cult and a damned Wendigo by yourself?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, basically.”

  “Did Whispy rewire your brain when he gave you thermal vision?” Shay crossed her arms and frowned. “Why the hell should I sit this out?”

  James shook his head. “You said it yourself. You can’t fight what you can’t see.” He pointed to his eyes. “I can see heat now, but it’s not like I can send the information to you. If you go out there with me, as badass as you are, you’ll be a liability. If I knew you could see the enemy I wouldn’t worry, but in a blizzard? There’s no way I’m gonna have you go out there and offer yourself up as a snack.”

  Shay gritted her teeth and looked down. “I can… Maybe… Shit.” She slammed a fist against the wall. “Wait.” She pointed at his chest. “You used that thing to stun me before. Maybe it can give me thermal vision, too?”

  James furrowed his brow. “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.”

  Whispy, he sent, can you alter Shay’s vision?

  Insufficient biological matrix combinability for permanent functional modification. Limited attacks available.

  James shook his head. “No go. Probably only works on whatever the fuck I am.”

  Shay sighed and nodded. “It was worth a shot. Fine. As much as it pisses me off to sit here while you go and have all the fun, I’ll do it.” She waved a fist at him. “But you better be careful. Remember what I said: the cult or whatever, they won’t be shit, but I’m still worried about the Wendigo. Judging by other magical creatures we’ve both fought, you can’t depend on it just being strong. Don’t underestimate it or assume you’ll be immune to its attacks. You might not be able to beat it using conventional means.”

  James chuckled and patted the amulet underneath his shirt. “If I need them, I’ve got unconventional means.”

  Power level insufficient for advanced transformation.

  Not helping, even if she can’t hear you.

  James grunted.

  Shay unbuckled her sword belt and held it up. “Take this. You don’t have to give in to the Dark Side or whatever for it to work.”

  “No. There’s still a chance you might get attacked while you’re waiting. I’ve got Whispy, and you need the sword in case the Wendigo or the wizard shows up. Either of those will take more than a few shots from an AK to put down.”

  Shay sighed and wrapped the belt around her waist again. “Fine. Finish this shit. I can’t even play on my phone. Maybe I should start bringing a paperback every time I go on a job. This sucks.” She blew out a breath. “Kill that damned Wendigo fast.”

  16

  James slammed the shed door shut behind him and surveyed the area. A group of red-orange blobs moved on the other side of the central refinery building. More Brotherhood. Judging by the pattern he’d encountered so far, the Wendigo would be where the cultists were.

  Losing focus here. Fuck it. I’ll just kill everyone and everything, and that’ll make shit simple again.

  He trudged through the snow, ignoring the harsh wind blasting his face, the faintest hints of chill touching his amulet-enhanced skin.

  James spared a glance behind him to make sure Shay wasn’t following before continuing his march. No matter what else happened on this job, he needed to make sure she was safe and not blindly following him into the storm.

  The blobs became human outlines as he closed—several of them. They rushed with quick movements around a central point, punching and kicking something he couldn’t make out at a distance. Whatever they were fighting was the same temperature as the air around it.

  Shit. So much for the thermal vision.

  The arm flew off one man, and his body collapsed to the ground. Another man, struck by a force still invisible to James, rolled across the ground. He stopped moving.

  Have to give it to these Brotherhood assholes; they don’t know when to give up. Too bad they are such twisted fucks.

  James continued pushing through the deep snow with a grunt. The cultists continued to dodge, along with striking at something the bounty hunter couldn’t make out in the frigid maelstrom.

  As badly as he still wanted to deny it, one strong candidate presented itself. The evidence he’d collected suggesting that a bounty hunter or normal shifter was responsible for the Brotherhood attacks was circumstantial.

  He grunted.

  Shay was right. It is a fucking Wendigo, or at least some stupid-ass magical monster. Might need something a little more badass than my gun to take it out.

  Insufficient power for advanced transformation, Whispy sent.

  Yeah, yeah. I’m more irritated than pissed, I get it.

  Something loud and inhuman bellowed, the sound cutting through the wind.

  Need to get to him before he runs off again. Why does he keep going after the Brotherhood? Focused on their magic, maybe?

  “Stop running, fucker,” James muttered.

  He rushed forward, charging through the snow on the ground and the flakes swirling around him. More men lost their limbs as he moved close enough to discern the rough outline of a massive white creature. The monster was surrounded by four cultists, and the remains of several others littered the ground.

  You fuckers just can’t win.

  Engage and kill new enemy, Whispy ordered.

  That’s the plan. Just need to get to him while he’s distracted.

  James pushed closer to the battle and grunted. Standing on two feet, the creature was over ten feet tall. That confused James, since the first building he’d entered hadn’t had that high a ceiling, and the door was barely tall enough for him to pass.

  Flexible bastard, I guess.

  White fur covered the hulking monster, and its thick arms and hands were tipped with white claws. A squat nose sat in the center of his broad head, but the glowing blue eyes and mouth filled with sharp teeth drew the most attention.

  Huh. So that’s what a Wendigo looks like. Looks like what I figured a Yeti does, too. Maybe they’re related.

  Two of the Brotherhood charged the creature from opposite sides, both landing solid glowing punches. The Wendigo roared and raked one of the men with its claws, sending him to the ground with a scream, his blood pooling beneath him. The other cultist ducked an attack and spun, perhaps to flee. His enemy opened his back with a powerful swipe and the man pitched forward, landing face-first in the snow with his blood spraying everywhere.

  James frowned. Normally, seeing crazed cultists getting taken out would have pleased him, but the more he thought about the situation, the more irritated he grew.

  No, this can’t go down like this.

  Years earlier in his career, he’d gone down to take out several level-four bounties in San Juan, Puerto Rico. When he’d kicked in the door to their safe house, he’d found them dead, all drained of blood. Locals claimed a Chupacabra had killed them, but when James delivered the bodies to the local authorities, they only paid him a portion of the reward based on the various “active effort” laws designed to ensure bounty hunters weren’t always undercutting each other.

  James had never thought much about the laws before or after because he never considered poaching bounties, but now they might cost him his money.

  He had hoped that if another bounty hunter were hunting the cult, he could at least bag the head wizard and get most of the reward, but if a monster killed everyone, the whole situation could turn into Puerto Rico all over again.

  Fucking Wendigo. Couldn’t you have waited one damned day?

  Shit. I didn’t even think to check and see if there’s a bounty on a Wendigo anywhere in Canada.
This thing has to be worth money. The Brotherhood can’t be the only people it has fucked with.

  James continued his advance. The only spots of heat he could see on the Wendigo were from the fresh blood of its victims splattered on its fur and face. The monster’s temperature matched the environment exactly, and he was fortunate Whispy’s thermal vision modification worked as an overlay rather than a replacement or he’d be fighting blind.

  Another cultist tried a kick, but the Wendigo caught his leg and ripped out his throat with its other hand. The final surviving cultist backed away, his eyes wide. The monster pounced on the screaming man. Two quick claw strikes shredded his face and neck before the Wendigo lifted him and bit into his neck.

  Damn, the thing’s faster than I would have thought, and… Well, fuck, he is going to eat all of them.

  James scrubbed a hand down his face.

  Give me normal vision. Want my defenses maxed out for this, and you said that shit cost me a little.

  Adjusting. Kill new enemy. Adapt and achieve primary directive.

  James hissed as his eyes burned, but the pain was nowhere near the intensity of when he’d activated the thermal vision. He took a few deep breaths and stalked toward the hungry monster while he checked out the bodies, wondering if the Wendigo had already made the trip pointless.

  They all looked like normal Brotherhood cult members. Their leader must still be hiding in one of the other buildings, although at the rate of loss, he doubted there were many actual cultists left.

  That urn has to be somewhere, at least. Not like that fucker could eat it. Whole thing’s turning more into a tomb raid than a bounty hunt.

  “You stupid piece of shit,” James shouted. “You want a real fight? Fight me.”

  The Wendigo spun his way, the dead cultist still in hand. The monster tossed the half-eaten body to the crimson-stained ground and roared.

  “Fuck that shit.” James slapped a hand on his chest. “This was supposed to be fucking relaxing. I wouldn’t give two shits about you killing a bunch of cultist fucks, but you’re messing with the entire reason I came here. I better not have come to Nowhere-fucking-Alberta in the middle of a blizzard for no damned reason. I could have been back in fucking LA walking my dog in sixty-degree temperatures and planning for my next PFW competition. If I came all the way up here to watch you eat people, I’m gonna be very, very pissed off. And when I’m pissed-off, I like to get rid of the shit that’s pissing me off.”